


Magic

by st_jimmy_987



Category: Welcome to Nightvale
Genre: Hogwarts AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2016-09-01
Packaged: 2018-08-12 10:51:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7931845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/st_jimmy_987/pseuds/st_jimmy_987
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Cecil makes a new discovery, and Carlos is embarrassed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Magic

Cecil stared at the sky, watching the clear blue as the stands filled around him. Dana had been standing next to him, but she vanished in order to probably sit down with her other friends in her own house. Or to go get food, because she was part of the minority that didn't particularly find Quidditch interesting. What blasphemy. If it wasn't for the fact that he actually liked Dana, as she was the only friend that seemed to stick around no matter what, he would surely lump her together with all the other non-Quidditch enthusiasts. Like that reprehensible Steve Carlsberg, that guy in Hufflepuff who couldn't possibly take proper Transfiguration notes to save his life and was dating Cecil’s sister even though she attended Beauxbatons.

But, Cecil digresses.

His violet eyes closed once and then opened again, his fingers tapping idly on the wooden bench beneath him. The chatter in the stands was nothing but background noise to the lone Ravenclaw, and he amused himself by pulling out his wand to shoot jets of purple lines into the air. They formed different shapes, like his cat Khoshekh and the shadowed outline of the headmaster’s assistant from the outside of their office. The latter gave him a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach, and he glanced furtively out of the corners of his eyes to make sure nobody saw it. The former made him chuckle, and wonder if he’d remembered to leave the water running a bit so the floating cat could drink water.

Maybe he should have Dana check on that.

The crowd burst into cheers, and he dropped down to see the opposing teams exiting their respective locker rooms; brooms over their shoulders and uniforms flapping just slightly in the wind, the green and blue clad players strode confidently out into the field. It was Slytherin against Ravenclaw today. There was a mutual hope amongst all but one house that Ravenclaw would win. Not only because it would prove the team was just as good as their opponent, but also because if they beat Slytherin it would put the serpent-crested house down in the ranks. Cecil noted, with some interest, that there were new players on both teams. He was about to glance down at the roster that was just slid by his elbow to announce their names properly when he suddenly caught sight of something interesting. Something new. Something beautiful.

Something perfect.

Brown hair was being fluttered about by the same wind that was playfully tugging on their uniforms. He was tanned, and had two visible, impossibly straight teeth that were tugging on his lower lip in anxiety. His hand was clenching his broom tightly, his chest rising and falling unevenly as he tried to calm himself with deep breaths. Michael Sandero was telling him something, probably, about keeping himself together. Or about how important this game was. It wasn't important; what was important was the way his eyes glanced around the stadium as he adjusted his glasses, a nervous flush darkening his dark skin even further.

Cecil’s breath caught in his throat. He was beautiful. He was glorious. He was perfect.

He was also on the Ravenclaw team.

Cecil practically dove towards the list, eyes taking down it as he tried to narrow down the name that would belong to this perfect, perfect, perfect boy. His mind whirred as he thought; Cecil knew he was always wrapped up in his own mind, his own world. He didn't have many friends. Dana was the only one who stuck through his oddness, probably because it was a Gryffindor trait of hers, and Khoshekh was kind of stuck in a single spot. His own sister didn't even talk to him much, probably because of how vocal he was in his disapproval of her decision to date Steve Carlsberg, of all the people in the world, but still.

This boy was beautiful. How could Cecil have missed…

Missed…

Carlos. Carlos. The name stood out, so bright and vividly that Cecil was suddenly blind to everything else on the page. His name was perfect. His hair was perfect. Everything about him was just…

Perfect.

Cecil became aware of the way the silence suddenly filtered into his consciousness, and he peered upwards to find many in the stands looking at him oddly. Those that weren't, were giggling amongst themselves while stealing furtive glances at him. Gulping and feeling a flush crawling up his neck, he worked to look past Perfect Carlos with his Perfect Hair to the referee; she was looking impatiently at him, and Cecil suddenly realized he was supposed to have been introducing the players.

With a start, the sixth year lunged toward the old-fashioned microphone he used to the amusement of his peers; knowing his face was a bright, vivid crimson, Cecil began naming the teams and beginning the game with kickoff.

Vanessa on Slytherin, one of their chasers, was already holding the Quaffle and heading towards Michael Sandero, the Ravenclaw Keeper, who was guarding the goal posts. Cecil was trying to keep his eye on the game, honestly he was, but right before Vanessa threw the Quaffle he was distracted by Carlos zooming by on his broom.

And, wow.

Something grumbled in the back of his mind. It sounded suspiciously like the noise the headmaster’s assistant made behind its closed doors, and Cecil grimaced.

“And…” His voice, magically magnified, shook just a bit as he tried to pull names forward, “it's Hector with the Quaffle now, passing it to Jeremy, then stolen by Vanessa, again, who gets intercepted by the Bludger; good job, Vithya, so now…wow.”

It wasn't fair. Carlos wasn't even doing anything special, like tricks or anything. He was just floating, high above the game, and searching for the Snitch. His hands were clenched tightly to his broom, and his eyes were intent on the game below; every so often, he would cheer when the Ravenclaw Chasers pulled off a particularly difficult move. Carlos didn't even seem to hear Cecil’s imperfect narrating, which was great because Cecil was acting stupider than he actually was. His hair was fluttering in the wind, and it looked perfect. Kevin was copying him, but Cecil wasn't watching Kevin. Who even cared about Kevin. Who even cared about Quidditch, right now, with Carlos flying perfectly with his beautiful hair and his sun-kissed face?

“And Ravenclaw scores!” Cecil cooed as Vanessa threw the Quaffle past Michael Sandero once again. “The game is 20-0, Slytherin in the lead. Michael retrieved the Quaffle and is…is…” Cecil sighed. Something was pressed insistently into his elbow, and he tore his gaze away from Carlos to look at the paper. “Oh, I've just been handed something from Management. It says, stop ogling and watch the game.”

Oh, right.

“So, Vithya knocks a Bludger into Vanessa again, and it allows Ravenclaw to finally score, so now the game is tied 20-20, I think, dear listeners, and Kevin is still searching for the Snitch, oh, dear, I think he found it, down goes Kevin and oh, wait- - -no, never mind, Kevin dove at nothing. Stupid Kevin. Anyway, Ravenclaw needs 200 points to beat Slytherin down into the dust and knock them down a place like they deserve, so all Beautiful Carlos has to do is keep- - -oh, my goodness!” Carlos suddenly plummeted several hundred feet very quickly, and Cecil jumped to his feet before he could stop himself.

What happened? Carlos had been flying so well, and he didn't do anything that suggested he saw the Snitch. Kevin didn't even try to mimic him, he just laughed. Cecil shot him a quick glare before turning his attention back to Carlos.

His face was dark, darker than it’d been a few minutes ago, and the other boy shot a furtive glance at Cecil. His gaze, on him for the first time since the game began, made Cecil blush violently. He slammed himself down into his seat again, staring determinedly at the wood while someone scored. Judging by the loud cheers, it was a Ravenclaw score.

“S-So, it's 20-20, due to a second score by Ravenclaw,” Cecil stammered, with a quick check at the scoreboard to make sure he was keeping track properly, “and Vanessa has the Quaffle again, honestly, it's like she's the only Chaser for Slytherin, come on, anyway Vanessa scores again, Michael Sandero needs to get himself together if he wants to beat Slytherin; honestly, I liked him better when he had three arms. But Hector gains the Quaffle and throws it to Maureen, come on Maureen, and she scores! Vithya does several loops around the field, and Kevin is now- - -hey!” Cecil jumped to his feet, pointing accusingly at the Slytherin Seeker; the boy wasn't even searching for the Snitch, choosing instead to circle around poor Perfect Carlos mockingly, “you big bully, you leave Beautiful Carlos and his Perfect Hair alone! How dare you even sink so low as to tease him about anything! So help me, God, I will- - -urk!” Dana had come back and yanked him down into his seat again.

“Honestly, Cecil!” She snapped. Cecil had the grace to look just a little bit embarrassed, but when he glanced at the field again, Kevin was no longer teasing Carlos. Carlos descended another hundred feet, but he seemed to be valiantly trying to ignore Cecil now. He was staring intently at the ground, as if wishing it would magically reach out and swallow him whole.

If he wished hard enough, Cecil thought, it just might. You never knew at Hogwarts, after all.

“I can't help it!” Cecil gave up even trying to pretend he was narrating the game. The entire crowd was splitting its focus between the game and him sitting in the announcer’s box. Cecil didn't notice, putting his head on his hands. “Have you seen him, Dana? He's perfect. Everything about him!”

“People are staring!” Dana sank down in her own seat, for a different reason than Cecil did. She put one hand over her eyes, her shoulders hunching in on her as she tried to hide in her chair. “Will you do your job please?”

“Oh, but I can't focus!” Cecil wailed. His voice reverberated through the stadium, causing everyone to wince. He threw his hand out to gesture at Carlos, who was turning redder by the second. Cecil sighed dramatically, his voice echoing louder throughout the stadium. “Look at him! His beautiful eyes, Dana. Sun kissed skin. Even his teeth are perfect, straighter than anything I've ever seen. And his hair. Oh, Dana, his hair! It's so luscious and thick and long and perfect, Dana, just perfect. And in my own House! How have I missed him this long, Dana, how?”

Cheers erupted, and Cecil started. He hadn't even realized he'd closed his eyes as he started waxing poetic, and for a moment he'd thought the cheers were for him. He looked around in confusion, noting that Carlos had landed on the ground. His broom was abandoned a few feet from him, and he seemed to be making himself as small as possible; he was curled up on his knees with his face buried in his arms, looking like he was pleading with the ground now. His teammates were landing beside him, and all of them were shooting murderous looks at Cecil’s direction.

Kevin was soaring through the air, fist raised in the air as- - -oh.

Oh, dear.

Carlos hadn't caught the Snitch. Kevin had. Cecil felt like sinking into the ground too, and he glanced at the scoreboard above him in a futile hope. If Ravenclaw had somehow, by some miracle, managed to score enough before Kevin got the Snitch, technically speaking they were neck and neck with Slytherin instead of last.

The score read 280-50. Slytherin won. Completely and totally. There could be no doubt; Slytherin and Gryffindor were neck and neck now with three hundred and eighty-two points, and Ravenclaw had fallen below Hufflepuff by fifty-seven points. They'd lost the game.

Already the stands below were emptying out. There was a general grumbling that Slytherin won and there was some general excitement from the Slytherin side on their own, but Cecil felt like he couldn't move. Carlos, poor Carlos, was curled up on the floor still, resolutely ignoring his teammates. Eventually, Michael Sandero just picked him up and carried him off to the locker room, the boy seeming to weigh nothing in the arms of the Ravenclaw Keeper. Cecil watched them go, the Ravenclaw team following after them dejectedly, and made up his mind.

He had to apologize to Carlos.

XxX

Carlos…wasn't quite sure how to be feeling, if he was going to be honest.

On the one hand, he'd lost his very first Quidditch match. Against Slytherin, no less. Carlos hadn't even been sure he wanted to be on the Quidditch team, but one of his friends from Gryffindor had pushed and pushed and pushed, and, well, here he was. His first official Quidditch match, lost. Even after Michael Sandero had spent the half hour walking from Hogwarts to the pitch reminding him of just how crucial it was they beat Slytherin.

His teammates were very supportive, of course, reassuring him that it wasn't his fault. It was Cecil’s, they told him, because that damn fool didn't know when to shut up and do his job. He always ended up going on this tangent or that one, but never before had he singled out a member of the team, the one for his own House no less, and put the focus entirely on them. God damn it, Cecil, they all said. And Carlos felt…

He felt…

Well, to be quite honest, he was pretty damn happy.

Ever since his first year in Hogwarts, which seemed so long ago, the fifth year boy had admired Cecil. He couldn't help it. It was like Cecil had been the sun to light up his life and his mind. Carlos had covertly, or perhaps not so covertly, kept finding his eyes locked onto the older one at dinner, in the common room, in any classes he happened to share with Cecil because he was bright for his age, dammit, and he could keep up with his own curriculum and an advanced one.

Cecil was radiant, and his voice was more soothing than Carlos could ever dream, especially narrating Quidditch matches. He would be the first to admit, albeit only in his head, that he used to dream about that almost silken voice making the sounds of his own name as he caught the Snitch and won the game.

Still.

He thought it would take time to make himself noticeable to Cecil. Carlos had tried talking to him before, especially once it came to partnering in classes, but Cecil always seemed to look through him. It was disheartening, truthfully, and that's why he'd agreed to join the Quidditch team. Carlos had thought, perhaps a bit naively, that if he could win a bunch of Quidditch matches and prove himself to Cecil…

Well, he didn't win the match.

But Cecil…

“Hello?” Carlos whirled around on the bench, heart thumping. He had opted to stay behind in the locker room, though he had changed into comfortable Muggle clothes instead of just sitting in his uniform. The team had left already, everyone trickling back to school and to their own groups of friends. Carlos had sat down on the bench, and it felt much better to be off his feet than he'd anticipated. He was in no hurry to get back up, not really.

But that voice…

Cecil stuck his head in and glanced around the room before his eyes lit up on Carlos. Carlos felt himself blush darkly, and he felt kind of like burying his face in his hands. He didn't, of course, that would be silly. But he felt like it; to combat it, Carlos very pointedly looked away from Cecil.

Out of the corner of his eye, Carlos saw Cecil’s smile drop quickly out of sight.

“Well, hello Carlos.” Cecil murmured. He looked shyer than the fifth year Ravenclaw had ever seen him looking before, and Carlos looked at him again. Cecil’s lip was in his mouth, though his speaking didn't seemed to be hindered by it. “I'm very sorry. Dana said that I could be a bit much, and that you probably weren't used to being waxed over like that. I told her that maybe she didn't know you that well, and Dana said that I was being an idiot and cost Ravenclaw the game.”

“Hi, Cecil.” Carlos squeaked. Instantly, he wanted to bury his face again. He wasn't eleven anymore, he shouldn't still be squeaking like that at all!

But Cecil grinned again, his gaze turning soft and something that looked almost similar to fond. Carlos felt himself smile back, his embarrassment lessening with the silence.

“Uhm,” Carlos stammered, “I don't think you cost us the game.” Cecil practically beamed at him, and Carlos threw his thoughts around for something to say. “Uhm, have you ever seen the cat in the Ravenclaw bathroom? He's a cutie. I've never seen a cat hover like that before.”

“You mean Khoshekh, my cat?” Cecil was suddenly right by Carlos’s side, his hand latching onto his arm. The younger jumped, just a little bit, but Cecil was kind enough to pretend it didn't happen. Carlos was slightly grateful for that, even as Cecil wrapped his arm around his waist and pulled Carlos flush against his side. “I was just planning a visit to him right now! Isn't he just the cutest? I think he might be having kittens soon. Wouldn't that just be fantastic?”

“I…” Carlos frowned, confused. There was still a lot he wasn't certain about when it came to the wizarding world, even after five years, but he was sure that even in the magical community, male cats didn't give birth. Cecil was talking over him, though, and so he was content to let him speak. After a couple years of trying to get him to even look his way, Carlos was more than pleased with all of Cecil’s attention on him.

“You know,” Cecil said, suddenly serious and interrupting his own monologue, “I really am sorry about the match. I did want to beat Slytherin, I did, but as soon as I saw you…” He shrugged, his shoulder bumping into Carlos’s as he did. “All my concentration fled, right then and there. Like magic.”

“Like magic.” Carlos repeated softly. He glanced at Cecil out of the corner of his eye; the older Ravenclaw looked down, really, truly upset about what had happened during the match. Carlos wondered, somewhere in the back of his mind, if commentary was going to start including more ‘perfect’s and ‘beautiful’s in conjunction with his name or his hair.

“Yes, well,” Cecil cleared his throat. “I've lived around magic for quite some time, grew up with it in fact, and so I of course know what magic is like. I know that you didn't actually cast a spell on me while flying, that would just be ridiculous. You don't even have your wand during a game! But it felt just like it.” His head tilted just a bit. “Your hair blew in the wind and your teeth looked so perfectly straight gnawing on your lip, and in the sunlight you looked so beautiful and so perfect. I couldn't help myself, I couldn't. I fell in love instantly.”

Carlos squeaked, not expecting that, and Cecil drew away as if he's burned him.

They walked together in silence for a moment, heading back up towards the castle. Carlos found himself missing how Cecil’s arm had been wrapped around his waist, and noticed his steps brought him closer and closer to Cecil’s side. He wasn't sure Cecil himself noticed; he'd shoved his hands into the admittedly deep pockets of his robes and was glowing fiercely with his own declaration.

“Hey.” Carlos bumped into Cecil slightly, just a bit, and got his attention again. The violet eyes turned questioningly, and Carlos felt his face go red as he summoned up all his courage. Gryffindor courage, he thought, and he almost wanted to giggle at that. Before, he'd never even think to separate traits like they do at Hogwarts. The magical world was bizarre. “There's a Hogsmead weekend in two weeks. You…maybe wanna come? With me?” His voice was getting higher the more Cecil stared. Wracking his mind, Carlos said the first thing he could think to make the offer sound more attractive than it was. “We could get butterbeer together, and maybe look at the shop with all the quills?”

Dammit.

But Cecil’s face was open, bright, radiant in his joy, and he reached down to take Carlos’s hand in his own. They stopped just outside the great oak doors together, turning so that they're facing each other rather than just standing side by side.

“I'd love that.” Cecil said breathlessly, and Carlos felt his own smile break across his face.

And even though Slytherin is rejoicing and the rest of the Houses shooting them annoyed looks, neither Cecil or Carlos could find themselves to be unhappy about anything.


End file.
